The night of the gospel concert I participated in I was fortunate enough to hear
Danel D. play the violin. The same age as my
son David who plays the guitar amazingly,
he was just as amazing on the violin. He had
begun at the same age which David began at.
I first saw Daniel at the sound check. I was impressed then, and I noticed his professional confidence and cockiness, cockiness in a good way. He reminded me of my son. When I spoke to him at the end of the night, he was very humble and sweet.
I posted videos of him performing on my
son's web page and my own. I felt that Daniel was a part of the new humanity that I
am always talking about. He was one of
the bright stars of the future to me.
I am writing a novel which I admit to have slacked off on because of writing being hard on my eyes, and the last episode I wrote was a bit sad and I did not know where to go from there. Meeting Daniel made me start thinking about my novel once again, because the young man who represents one of my sons in the story is named Daniel. I suppose the people in my novel are universal.
I had begun to think a lot about the mother in American Boys and wondered if we would get along if she were a real person or is she too much like me or too different? Would I feel inferior to her? Would she feel inferior? Would we be of different worlds? I could totally relate to her kids, because they are from my imagination as she is as well, but they really are my kids in representation and so are their friends. I feel I even know her boyfriends, but she herself is an enigma to me, ironic I know because she came about from my writing.
Mainly American Boys is about the young men and a few young women as well, but mostly the males and their problems. As I have said before, had I had daughters I may have written a book called American Girls. I realize that young women are soldiers and do everything young men do now, but I still think many problems men and women have are different.
For example, when a young girl becomes pregnant like I did when I was twenty, the father or boyfriend is faced with new complications and challenges. In my case I would have had the baby either way. A young man is faced with an innate feeling of needing to provide even if the 'baby mama' has a job. For example I was working in a women's clothing store at the time, but the winters were part time and although I could support just me, I do not think I could have supported myself and a child, although when we were separated for eight months when my first child was three, I did support myself and my son by singing and playing guitar in night clubs.
I guess I am just saying that it is one example of a possible challenge, fatherhood. I recall that my ex-husband was having trouble sleeping when we had a new baby.
He had trouble with commitment and I cannot get inside his head. Plus that was years ago.
One issue that presents itself in my novel to do with young men and their problems as well as teenagers, is the problem of being able to go to college. In my story the character Daniel, the older son, gets to go to Berkeley School of Music in Boston because the mother's parents are rich. I wondered if this really made sense, because her parents being rich, I doubt she would really be struggling like me. I guess I got envious of my own made up characters, because my son wanted to go to Berkeley School of Music in reality. We did apply, but we could never afford that.
I was impressed that Daniel D. had gone to Julliard in New York after going to The Art Institute in Charleston, since he is from my state. I told my son this to inspire him, thinking perhaps David could go to The Art Institute.
Young people can go to public state college with a grant for undergraduate studies which I did get for my son.
Another problem is underage drinking and the prevalence of drugs, which cause young people to slack off in school. Single parenthood is a problem too, like I was, because you do not have the help and support of another parent to enforce rules and structure. When a father is absent or has another family like my children's father did, it is hard not only for the kids, but for the parent taking care of them, or trying to.
Friendship is something I think everyone needs, although I have known a few who do not want friends or believe in friends. I thought this was a jaded point of view, but in truth very few friends will be tried and true.
I do not know the exact criteria for friendship, but it is something that cannot be measured. Like romantic relationships, though very different, friendships will prove themselves by their endurance. Your heart knows who cares and who does not, who loves you and who does not.
People have many agendas, even me sometimes, but that is not right. Sometimes what you may think of as a friendship may just be a project to another, especially if you have a disability. I have a disability, my eyesight and I appreciate help. Sometimes I think that I perceive some friendships as deeper and more fast than they are, but that is my bad.
I am not saying I do not have steadfast friends. I am just saying it is a rare thing and you are lucky if you have two or three really close friends, who will never turn their back on you, and who will always forgive you, especially if you apologize sincerely. Sometimes cleaning up your own side of the street is all you can do. Once you have made amends, it is out of your hands.
Sometimes when people show that they have a double standard in how they treat you as opposed to other friends, you can see their lack of affection. I mean a friend of mine got furious when I was at the Commission for the Blind, because she said I said something that hurt her friend's feelings, and I did not know what she meant or even remember it, but apparently it was supposed to be a secret, but
I did not know that, thinking it was not that bad. This same person told me something really nasty two times that this other friend said to her about me. It was then I realized that she had a double standard where I was concerned, and I realized that neither of them were my friends.
It was a hurtful thing, and it took a while for it to really sink in, but I am over it. I bless them both on their journey and wish them health, wealth and happiness as I go my own way.
A friend, the one who I thought jaded, told me this about people a long time ago, and I did not believe him and considered him bitter and cold, but ultimately he was basically right in a way, not totally, because there are some true friends. It is just that sometimes one can be fooled.
Although I am not a terribly political person, just came from a family of die hard Democrats and always voted that way. I always listened to the debates since I was just a kid and it seemed it was mostly about the Democrats saying the rich should be taxed more and the middle class less which of course made perfect political sense to me.
I think I have been listening to extreme liberal ideology, and although I really like Ron Paul I think, I definitely think I will vote for Obama again against what I may have said earlier.
I know I could not vote Republican with the choice(s) we have, and having never voted Republican, that would take someone great to do that and the Republican party seems a bit broken now.
One thing I will say to the Democrats is do not think that a Democratic president is less for war than a Republican. Two Democrats kept us in war and Nixon actually got us out.
Many give President Obama credit for bringing our troops home from Iraq, but they were scheduled to return at that time.
I realize I have blamed President Obama for many financial problems which may have just been leaking over from the past administration in a tardy fashion making it seem that economically things were better before, which they were, but there are other factors in place.
You have to empower yourself to survive in this crazy mixed up world. Why? Because people will try to put you down, push you around, mess with your head and many lack good sense in many ways. Do not let people get all up in your head. It just is not worth it.
Recently I dated a guy. I was not that attracted to him, but I thought I should give it a try, since my future is uncertain as is everyone's.
I invited him to a party with my friends. Before that we had gone to a party with his friends, actually people I have known a long time too, because we attend the same church. At least I used to. His ex-girlfriend was present. I have been single a long time, so to me this was no big deal. Hey, we are all adults. Or I thought we were.
So he comes to take me to my party which I invited him to and tells me he's hung up on his ex. This is not a new thing for me. It has happened to me before a few times. I've heard this before is what I am saying, worded differently in every case but always meaning the same thing.
He cried and I offered him a kleenex. I should have been the one crying. Geesh. So I wonder to myself, "why did he not tell me this a few days ago and I could have gone with someone else instead of showing up? Was this just to humiliate me? What is his problem? What a drag." So I go with him and he has a great time and likes my friends, because unlike his they are normal.
I have a good time. I put on a happy face and the full on personality and actually enjoy myself, interacting with him only when necessary.
He leads me to the vehicle and we make small talk, but I know what I am going to say and have my key ready to get inside fast, a fast get away.
I say, "I'm not inviting you in. I don't think we should see each
other again."
He says, "well no, not like that because I still have this other thing..." Oh I forgot to tell you he wanted to talk about her, but I said I was not interested. That was before we left my house.
I said, "no, I do not want to see you again ever. I'm through with you."
You see this was not the first time he insulted me. I was giving him a second shot. Foolish me.
Why I just let him take me to the party, I have no idea? I guess that was stupid of me. Oh well. At least the jerk had a good time at my party, my friends' party.
My son wrote a song called, Lesser Me You Gain. One day I asked him what it was about. He said it was about people putting you down or lecturing you, putting you down in the guise of advising you, only to make you feel less than and themselves feel better than. I know what he means, but there are many versions to the same concept.
People do all sorts of crazy game playing which you have to rise above, stay away from, etc., but in order to totally shield yourself, you would have to drop completely out of society. Why?
The reason is that the world is full of lunatics and idiots and a lot of ignorant, thoughtless people who have all sorts of weird mangled sickly agendas.
I realize this is judgmental especially after studying A Course in Miracles channeled through a woman named Helen and dictated by a guy named Bill in New York City during the '60's, supposedly Jesus coming through her. I have discussed this channeling with my brother who has blogged about channeling in terms of Meher Baba, but he said this is not what he is talking about, so I am not contradicting Baba's teachings.
A Course in Miracles is pretty much opposed to judging and yet judging is human nature. It is why people feel self conscious and afraid to be oneself sometimes, because there is always going to be someone who does not approve of you or me. Why do we need approval? Truthfully no one does, just think they do. I think it stems from childhood. Women want men's
approval for a feeling of approval they may have wanted from their own father and the reverse I believe.
The truth is what others think is none of my business. They can judge away, but information about myself, especially personal information like why my eyes are bad or why I wear glasses and what not is not their business. If someone genuinely cares and wants to be helpful it is one thing, but if they are just being confrontation and an a-h- then it is not their business.
I have a bit of a resentment because I have qualified for blind services my whole life and knew I had bad sight but did not know that part, because I was not told that I had RP, retinitis pigmentosa until I was twenty years old and pregnant with my first child. RP is hereditary. Contrary to myths and made up fabrications, it does not skip a generation. It is very genetic. Both my sons have it and they also carry it. It is like carrying brown eyes. If you have brown eyes you have a 50/50 chance to pass that gene. If you have blue eyes, you only have genes for blue eyes and will only have a brown eyed child if your mate has brown eyes, but if your mate has brown eyes and gives the recessive gene for blue eyes, you will have a blue eyed child. For example, I have brown eyes, my ex-husband father of my children had blue eyes. I gave a gene for blue eyes, since I have lots of blue eyed people in my family like my mother, etc., and therefore my two sons both have blue eyes. In other words if you do not have RP, like my brother for instance, you do not carry it, and the only way you would have a child with it would be to mate with someone with it, but since in the U.S. only one in four-thousand people have it, you would have to look for it, which would of course be a silly notion. The percentage in Switzerland is one in seven-thousand.
There is no discrimination in this disease in terms of nationality or ethnicity. It appears in every race and any country. The highest percentage in any ethnic group however and oddly enough is among Navajo Native Americans in which the statistics are one in one-thousand.
A person with RP unless totally blind, may appear sighted. This is because the central vision is the last to go and one eye may be worse than the other or be totally blind while the other may have partial sight. A person with retinitis pigmentosa, may or may not have improvement from glasses, because other complications like nearsightedness, astigmatism, cataracts, etc. are unique in every individual. The person with RP will have more difficulty at night, because night blindness is a big part of the disease. The eyes will also be sensitive to light, making sunlight and bright lights uncomfortable, requiring filtering sunglasses for the visually impaired available through the Commission for the Blind or low vision clinic which is part of the Commission for the Blind, which a person would have to be transported to since not every city has one and it would require a case manager from the Commission for the Blind, which would entail complete records from your eye doctor. Therefore, my friends it is impossible to fake being blind or having RP. The doctor can see the atrophy of the retina, the pigmentation and bone spicules, none of which are present on a normal healthy retina.
A person with RP can sometimes get around quite well in a well lit room or outdoors in a familiar surrounding, but may stumble over misplaced objects in their own home if someone else misplaced them because it is in one's own home where a person would relax and not have to try to get around because they would be accustomed and comfortable with the familiar surroundings. If a person with RP seems to be managing alright without assistance, they are relying on residual vision which varies from person to person, spacial relations aptitude and other senses as well. Some people, not many, have sharp central vision which makes it even harder for the onlooker to understand especially when the person is in their teens or twenties. In fact if the retinas and visual field went unchecked, young men have actually gone to war with it and become truck drivers. This is dangerous and came out of ignorance before more tests were used.
I am totally blind in one eye and in the other the doctor said the visual field cannot be measured because it is so bad.
I hope you enjoyed learning more. There is an RP foundation for fighting blindness, but no cures have been found or treatments, only protection from light and vitamin A to help decrease the progression, but no proof that even these will help. It is only recommended.
My father went totally blind from this at the age of fifty. His uncles were all totally blind as well, one of which was a lawyer. Ironically my father was an artist, then writer. He had a degree from Rhode Island School of Design. He painted to the bitter end of his vision at which point he turned to writing books on a type writer and having them read to him for editing. He painted hundreds of paintings, many of which are now owned by people and wrote a published book In Quest of the Face of God and an autobiography entitled, Journey Out of Darkness, some of which has been published in The Glow magazine. He also has published poems in Steve Klein's book Poems to Avatar Meher Baba, a compilation of poetry by Baba lovers around the world. His paintings have been used for covers of many books and albums including my own and Thomas Rain Crow's book of poetry in which he dedicates his title poem to my father, Lyn Ott.
Yesterday was the anniversary of the day my father slipped into the coma which led to his demise. He passed away on April 22, 1998 in the neurological department of MUSC. He was cremated in Myrtle Beach on April 25, his birthday, and a wake was held at Dilruba, standing room going out the door, due to the great love and admiration for a wonderful man.
Of course breath is involuntary. However I have found myself when I have been anxious or scared or even nervous forgetting to breath. Sometimes if you are scared enough it is just a survival mechanism, because someone might hear you breath, but in every day normal life, that will usually not be the case where one must hide in a closet from bad guys, although it happens. Remember the Nazis or maybe I should say forget them, or maybe remember but do not give energy or something.
There is also civil wars going on in Africa, and men going around with machetes raping and killing. Now that I have put more bad stuff in your mind and mine, I will get to my point.
What I really mean is sometimes I forget to be mindful about breathing, slow deep yogic breathing; there is a mindfulness to every act if you apply it, drinking a cup of tea, eating a meal, walking in nature, etc..
I try not to be too editorial in my writing for various reasons, (1) I have been accused of choosing my words too carefully when speaking, (2) I have known writers who I felt overdid the editing, (3) I want to exercise my second amendment to The Constitution of the United States of America, and (4) last but not least if I edited too much I do not think I would ever write anything, fear based which is not where I want to be. On the other hand, letting it all hang out is not good either.
I dreamed last night I was wearing a white dress and was so embarrassed to find that it was completely see through. In my dream I was baby sitting a friend's children and she was in jail (in my dream) not in real life of course, and when her husband came for the kids, I tapped him on the shoulder and said hello, but he ignored me, which made me feel guilty. He sort of had his back to me. Then when I looked down after he was gone with his kids, I saw that my dress was completely see through. I figured what he must have thought, wondered if he noticed, hoped he did not, and I just felt a lot of shame, shame of myself.
But, that was just a stupid dream working out some psycho babble b-sh-... I suppose.
Back to mindfulness and breathing. Did you know that one can learn to be mindful and meditative even in the dream world? I read three books by Neale Donald Walsh, Happier than God, Conversations with God and one I forget the name of. He spoke of a woman who saw a blue light in her sleep always, as though she were enlightened spiritually even in sleep, mindful.
It is a hard concept to fathom. I dream as I have told in other blogs, visually impaired because I am and that is strange to me, since that was not the case when I had better vision naturally.
Still I enjoy what I do see, a painting, a color, nature, water, trees, people, etc.. I may not see how others see, but I see. That is almost metaphorical, because we all see life differently to some degree, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. To each his own. I used to hate that expression, because I thought it was usually said with a nasty tone to it. LOL
Well, I am out of here. Love you...
I am watching Pet Sematary by Stephen King. Every time something scary happens, he has to have a beer with the neighbor.
Like that is going to fix things.
My cat Simon is watching too.
When Bhaghera, my black cat was passing away he reminded me of Church, the cat in pet cemetery, who comes back from the dead. His real name is 'Winston Churchill.'
Pet Cemetary was one of my all time favorite books I have read. Like I have said, it had a lot of meaning, to do with grief. When I read Pet Cemetery, I gained a great appreciation of King's writing, his ability, his style, his intensity and subtle flippant humor.
Lizzy felt like every dream was being answered. Jim and the bar had been exactly what she wanted and Charlie and his antics were exactly why they were not together. He was way too volatile, and Jim was calm and collected, in a sense.
Lizzy drove up in her old Chevrolet truck and walked to the lit up house, carrying groceries from the A&P.
The house was warm from the fireplace and wood stove as well. Daniel had come home with the whole crew, Chris and Robert only at this point. She had not expected Daniel to be home. He had been away at Berkeley School of Music, in Boston.
When she came in, everyone said "hi", but something was wrong. Daniel was crying and so were Robert and Chris. Beer bottles and cigarette buts were everywhere. Nicolas was the only one sober and not smoking. She wondered where the kids got the alcohol. Somehow though, she knew there was something wrong.
"Hey", she said to all of them, looking into the guest room, where they were all gathered. Nicolas, who had a hard time with emotion due to autism, was still playing the XBOX game, World Warrior. They also had the play station out and Castlevania had been recently played.
"What is wrong?, she asked the boys. "Is everything alright? You all look upset. Why are you home from school, Daniel? Is something going on? Where did this beer come from?" She also spotted a liter of whiskey. She thought maybe Charlie, with his anger at her for being with Jim, had helped them out, but somehow that was not the issue right now.
"Mom", Daniel looked up into his mother's green hazel eyes with his that were so blue, "Mom." He began to cry.
She went to him and held him. He was crying hard. Robert and Chris were crying too. Nick just kept playing, but suddenly he stopped, knowing it just was not appropriate right now.
"What Daniel? What happened? Is it you and Bethany? Is Dana alright?"
Suddenly she just knew. "It's Adrien isn't it? What happened?"
Daniel sobbed in his mother's arms, and then pulled back very stoically. "Mom, Adrien is dead. He was killed in action. In Iraq."
Lizzy was stunned, shocked. "What? No, no, that can't be," she said, denying it in her mind, some misunderstanding, no, not with the tears. She could see it in the boys' faces, even Nick's. She could see it in their eyes. She felt like she was going to pass out, too shocked to cry. But, then like the blood that comes, delayed sometimes, when one cuts oneself, and the flesh is in shock, the delayed tears came. "Oh no, oh no, it can't be. Oh my God, oh my God." She just kept shaking her head, and she had slid to the floor, and sat leaning against the bed, on the floor, her head on Daniel's shoulder. "Oh God, no. What do we do?" She felt so not grounded, so confused, so unprepared for all this that came so suddenly.
He had come back, after nine months in Iraq, and then last May, he had gone back for a second tour. It had been six months, and his parents were thinking he would, most likely, be home by Christmas. It was November now. He had only a month, before they had been hoping, that he could come home. It just did not seem fair, so wrong somehow. Why? Why did this happen this way? War was always the chance of death, of course, but they had not been prepared for this at all. They had been looking forward to Christmas, and his return.
Tomorrow, she would deal with the adults, calling poor Jill. What would she say? How could she help? Why was this happening? Finding out who brought the beer and whiskey, just no longer mattered. She slowly picked herself up off the floor, taking the two grocery bags with her, to the kitchen.
She put the groceries away, and then she made some chamomile tea.
"Have you boys eaten anything?," she asked, holding her steaming cup, standing in the doorway to the downstairs guestroom, which was where the boys hung out, most of the time, ever since Nicolas had gotten sick, with the pseudo seizures, and they had moved the video games down there.
"No, Mom, I'm not hungry," Daniel answered.
"I am," Nick answered, and he went with her into the kitchen, where she made him a ham and cheese sandwich, which she grilled on a frying pan, and served him, with a glass of milk.
Robert and Chris came out. "We're heading out. Bye Lizzy, bye Nick," they waved.
"Are you guys okay to drive?," she asked them. "You can stay over. I'd rather you be safe."
Robert said, "No, we really need to get back. We didn't drink much, really."
"Okay, if you're sure," she said in a resigned tone.
Lizzy, Daniel and Nicolas sat up for hours, in the living room, feeding the fireplace with kindling wood, and talking. Nick fell asleep on the sofa, and finally Daniel went up to his room.
Letting Nick sleep on the couch, rather than waking him, Lizzy covered him with an afghan, and then went in the kitchen, wiped things down a bit, and went up to bed.
She took a sleeping pill, that she had for emergencies, from a bedside drawer. Still, she lay awake, looking at the stars outside her window, until sleep finally came. And, in the morning, only for a moment did she feel okay, before she remembered that something was terribly wrong. "Adrien was dead."
Daniel woke with the same sensation. Lizzy offered Nicolas a reprieve from school, but he said he would go anyway, so she sent him on the school bus.
Daniel was home from Berkeley School of Music. When he heard about Adrien, he had immediately taken a greyhound bus home. Chris and Robert had come home from Durham, for the same reason. Adrien had been their friend too, but Daniel had been the closest to him of the three. Lizzy knew this would be really hard on him. It was hard on everyone.
After having her morning coffee, she called a florist to have flowers delivered. She also picked up the phone, hesitated, then called Jill. She got her voice mail, and she left a brief message, saying she would call again, and how very sorry she was.
Lizzy and Daniel ate breakfast in silence. Neither of them, were very hungry, at all. She was planning to call Jim, as soon as she finished the breakfast dishes. She would not be going to work today.
"Should I come over?," he asked, when she did call.
"No, but maybe if you could come over tonight?," she asked him.
"Of course. Sure," he answered. "I'll get out of here a little early, around nine okay?"
"Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you."
"I'm sorry. I'm sure Daniel is really broken up. Is he okay?"
"As well as to be expected. I'm concerned about Adrien's family mostly," she said.
"I'll be over tonight. Hang in there. I love you."
"I love you too," she said, and they said their goodbyes, temporarily.
Time goes by as suns pass away along the horizon, the embrace of a child, his innocent smile and open eyes, learning.
Here i am waiting for Christ to transcend my mind, for clarity to find in the essence of this great and powerful yearning.
You are love and light, beyond beyond, how can i comprehend? Though on a star lit night when i cannot see, You are the compassionate father, brother, Lord and friend.
Can You see me, myself?, not just a drop in the sea of eternity
and years go by of wondering, still i can't deny You ever, even when the only part of You i truly know is the innocence of a child...
for even i am a child of God, forever longing for You.
The latest talk is about Mit Romney saying he knows what women want or need from his wife Ann. I like the fact that President Obama said the spouses of candidates are off limits. He has always had that stand.
I can see though why since Ann Romney has as they say never worked in her life and cannot relate to a poor single mother trying to manage daycare, bills, etc., that some people were a bit put off.
Still, I think the news is making a big to do about this, like they make a big to do about everything.
Being blind, I take state transportation to doctor appointments and get to hear from young single mothers what it is like for them now. Recently I was riding the van, and a pretty young woman with a child with a disability was riding and talking about not only her personal problems to the driver but problems about work (she was not the one on disability but her son). Every time I made a comment, she said, "yes Mam". And every time the driver commented, she said "yes Sir." That is the way of the south. I do the same thing in certain circumstances. I think it is nice. When you are up north, they do not care for it.
Last night on the Rachel Maddow show, she was talking about how many states are doing away with the death penalty, like other countries in the free trade world other than China and Iran.
The governor of Connecticut was
interviewed about it because they just did away with the death penalty.
I think America is an enlightened nation and that the citizens are what truly make it great. I believe in a very positive light that American collective consciousness is growing higher and more spiritual. I realize that the death penalty has been said to give closure to family, but maybe they can still get closure. Really bad criminals will still have much more severe punishment.
I think it would be more civilized as a nation if we did not have the death penalty. Some states still use the electric chair. My son said we still have one in this state but do not use it. I said "where do you get your information?" I was being flippant. Twenty-two year old's know everything (they think they do). I admit he is very bright though.
Well now that I have blogged on the news, have a great day!
I am listening to Craig Ferguson's autobiography, An Unlikely Patriot. He talks a lot about alcohol recovery and what AA calls the 'big book'. It is really inspiring how his life improved in sobriety, learning to live life on life's terms and enjoy so many things in life one never thought possible. Interesting.
The funniest part, he being a comedian is when his wife was pregnant in the '90's in L.A. and they went to childbirth classes where they had to watch '70's childbirth films with really hairy people and they started giggling so much that their 'no sense of humored' childbirth class teacher told them to leave. It reminded me of an SNL skit I saw exactly like that, but really gross.
When I was pregnant both times in the '80's my ex and I took Lamaze childbirth classes at the hospital but it was not creepy like that. We did not have to watch movies like that thank the Lord.
Although I confess we did have the books Spiritual Midwifery and Prenatal Yoga, of course given to us by our hippy friends. LOL. Prenatal yoga is very good though for helping women prepare for childbirth.
That part of the book was so funny I just had to share it.
I have to admit though being a Virgo woman, I have a bit of earth mother in me. My younger son was saying how his stepmother did not like his father's church because women breastfeed there, but to tell you the truth I think a woman should be allowed to feed her baby when her baby is hungry, even if that be in church. That is just my opinion. If someone has an issue with it, that is their problem I think.
No where to run, no where to hide, from the audacity to be who i am. waiting for answers to find new ways to live, lost in dreams and misty hopes, wondering how to make it through this merky sea of illusion and nights of confusion, still waiting to see the sun in the sky and the ocean's blue cry...
Lord, i'll wait til moons and stars and rocks cry out to You, so let Your love rain over me like wine to my thirst, like water to my eyes in this desert where i long for You
in the audacity of me.
It is an honor when someone needs your help, something that does not happen to me every day, because of my disability, but when someone needs me, it is always an honor, either to give advice, to let a sick friend sleep over because they do not feel well enough to drive.
My son did not get to visit me on Easter weekend. This is my younger boy I am talking about and really a young man, but very respectful to me and his grandmother, who he stays with when he is in town, because his asthma is better at Grandma's and he can get to the center easier.
However, David has his license now. Some rich people made a big to do, saying that he nicked their Lexus SUV. They were trying to make a huge claim which would make my mother's insurance go sky high and she is no rich lady.
The kind policeman did not issue my son a ticket. I said,
"thank you so much. You helped with my other son."
And he said "I have been helping your boys since they were just kids."
I was really touched. He knew my boys. He knew we had difficulties and no vehicle. That my older son has been really sick.
It was a day that made me believe in the goodness of humanity.
I just read Elephant Journals, stories about Americans in India. A young American woman is raped by an Indian guy. She is at an ashram, but no one there is supportive and no one in the law enforcement or legal burocratic system will help. They only want her to sign papers saying she will not pursue this, but she refuses. Finally the ashram asks her to leave. Even the guru is no help at all.
So in the end she lures her rapist to his death by her only friend, an elephant in captivity, and lets go the chain. Then she leaves on a train.
I suppose it is definitely about revenge and justice, but it was also a statement about a male dominant, women do not matter society, even among spiritual communities. Why is it that everywhere on earth women are treated second class, whether it be Islamic countries, Orthodox Jews, Chinese, Japanese, East Indian, etc.? I wonder why this is.
I voted for President Obama. I cried when he was elected because I was so touched that we had elected the first African American president. I had canvased for him in North Carolina, and I have avidly defended him. So, this may shock some of my friends and I hope you will accept the way I feel, but I am not going to vote for him again.
Things for the poor, which I am, have gotten worse under Obama. It was better for me and my family under Bush. I never thought I would be saying this.
I also do not approve of his policies on torture and Guatanimo Bay. I also do not like his handling of the oil spill. The dolphins are dying.
I had praised him bringing our troops home, but December 2011 was the date the Iraq war was promised to end before he took office.
I realize that many are counting on his health care, Obama Care, but I do not think it is going to pass. And, for the poor it is getting worse all around, even if you have health care. There is no chance of the poor being anything but poor. The rich just get richer. At least the Republicans are honest about where they stand.
I realize many will not like my new stand, but this is how it is for the poor people under this administration. The only way to do anything about the country is get out and vote, and personally I will be voting and it is not going to be for Obama or Ron Paul for that matter.
Today I had a thought, the audacity of being who I am. You would have to know a person's history and life story to know why someone would feel something this negative. Everywhere in my life, I am working to self improve, to heal, to look at things from a different angle, learning new ideology, meditation, yoga, twelves steps, Course in Miracles and yes Baba. But, understand that I feel often like Meher Baba is not tangible for me, like someone that I can try to love but somehow cannot feel love in return. I know that if I had the faith other Baba lovers hold I would not feel this way, but growing up on the center makes you see things differently. You see it as your own back yard and then everyone comes and half of them start 'spiritual careers' and are very important. Meanwhile I have the audacity to be who I am. Do I sound angry? I am. If you took the time to know me and my life and circumstances of how I got here where I am, you would understand why I feel this way.
Where is Baba anyway? Everywhere, beyond beyond, Paramatma? Is He in everyone and everything, "on all planes and beyond all planes", to quote the Parvardigar Prayer. I suppose that is correct. Perhaps He loves some more than others. Specialness. In the Course in Miracles, there is no specialness, so in a sense there really is audacity in wanting to be or have anything I suppose.
Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows says in one of his songs, so much rejection in every connection. I could relate to that because I feel like that sometimes. Maybe everyone does.
